


one more sleep

by 4drinkamy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Kid Fic, merry christmas my loves!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4drinkamy/pseuds/4drinkamy
Summary: the chronicles of trying to get sweet mac to sleep, christmas eve 2023
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 16
Kudos: 67





	one more sleep

**Author's Note:**

> wishing everyone a very merry christmas if you celebrate, or just the warmest, loveliest day otherwise :)

**December 24th 2023, 6:30pm**

Jake now realises, as he watches Mac ice sugar cookies under Amy’s watchful eye, that the run up to Christmas - just like pretty much everything else in life - is much more exciting as an adult when you have your own child to remind you of its magic. It’s also a lot more exhausting, but he’s holding out hope, however unrealistic, that the promise of Santa’s arrival will mean his three year old who loves to resist bedtime will actually go down easily tonight. Until then, they’re making the most of Mac finally being able to grasp the whole concept of Christmas Eve, filling the evening with new traditions that they’ve both always dreamed of having with their own little family. 

“How’s your cookie decorating coming along, buddy?” he asks, leaning against the opposite side of the kitchen counter with an amused smirk at the icing sugar everywhere - only his son could be capable of making such a mess in the course of fifteen minutes. 

“It’s trees!” Mac declares excitedly as yet another squirt of bright green icing goes everywhere but the cookie. Amy lets out an exasperated sigh at being too slow to stop him, but still smiles when their son looks up at her for approval. 

“That’s right and I think Santa’s going to love them, Macadoodle,” she grins fondly, neatly adding some sprinkles to the cookies because, if a piping bag is dangerous, then a container of sprinkles is something a toddler definitely cannot be trusted with. She moves to wipe the counter with the nearby dishcloth and Jake finds it adorable how her reach is limited by her belly getting in the way - in just over a month their family is going to get bigger and there’s going to be another little one to share the festivities with. He can’t wait.

“Now how about Daddy gives you a bath, messy pup?” she suggests, although really, as Jake knows judging by the green icing smeared all over Mac’s cheeks, it’s an order. Now in her third trimester and suffering from backache that does not marry well with kneeling on the bathroom floor, bath time has exclusively come under the remit of Daddy, and he not-so-secretly loves the extra bonding time with his son. 

“No, I want cookie!” Mac frowns his cartoonishly grumpy frown, trying to reach for the prized plate that Amy has purposefully and prudently moved out of his tiny dictator grasp. 

“Bath time first and then you can maybe have a cookie as a special treat,” Jake says moving into the kitchen and hauling his son on his hip before he can protest by throwing a tantrum. 

Both Jake and Amy try not to laugh at the reluctant frown still plastered on his face - they like to bicker over which parent they think he inherited it from - and instead Jake opts for tickling him until he lets out a sweet baby giggle of his own, “Chin up, little Grinch baby, let's go clean you up.” 

**7:30pm**

“But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,” Amy reads on the “big bed” as her toddler calls it, with both of her boys snuggled into her side, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

She closes the book - a special edition of The Night Before Christmas, another tradition she wants to pass on to her son - and kisses his head. “Did you like that story, baby?”

“Again!”

“Not tonight, Mac Monkey, it’s time to go night-night,” Jake says, as he does pretty much every night, because if his little bookworm baby had it his way they’d be reading stories ten times over. “Aren’t you excited for Santa to come?”

“Santa’s going to bring me presents!”

“Yes but he can only do that if you’re a good boy and go to sleep,” Amy reminds him, gently running her hand through his wild curls the way she always does when she’s trying to calm him down. “There’s still time for him to update the naughty list, remember?”

Mac’s eyes widen at that, and he suddenly clambers off their bed to run off to his room as fast as his little legs will carry him. Jake looks at his wife with a grin, moving off the bed himself and offering a helping hand for her to do the same. 

When they get to Mac’s room, he’s already climbed under the covers, adorably bringing his dinosaur-Christmas themed duvet (as far as Jake’s concerned, Amy is a wizard at finding these types of things) all the way up to his nose and clutching his favourite turtle soft toy.

Jake sits on the edge of the toddler bed - which has been a blessing and curse recently in that while Mac isn’t going to break an arm trying to escape from a crib, he’s mastered the art of tip-toeing through to them at all hours - and kisses his son’s cheek. “You ready to go night-night, Mr Mac? You don’t need to go potty again?” 

“Nuh-uh,” Mac replies sweetly, shoving his turtle in Jake’s face lest he forget to kiss him goodnight too. 

“Then sweet dreams, baby; Mommy and Daddy love you so much,” Amy takes her turn to smother him in kisses. 

Without another word, Mac turns on his side and Jake and Amy take that as their cue to quietly leave his room, his hand on her back guiding her around the maze of stuffed animals on the floor. Once the door is ajar and they can make out the silhouette of their little boy under the glow of his nightlight seemingly determined to sleep, they let out a joint sigh; maybe tonight will be their night to finally enjoy some alone time before the chaos of Christmas day. 

  
  


**8pm**

Usually Amy would have had all of her presents wrapped perfectly with ribbon and gift bows by mid-December at the very latest; however, this year as yet another symptom of her pregnancy and backache, Jake finds himself on the living room floor in a losing battle with a roll of sellotape and three different types of wrapping paper. This year, Mac has specifically asked for a puppy (he’s getting an animatronic one), his own camera (the Vtech kids’ version) and “turtles”, and Jake can feel his wife’s amused gaze on him from the couch as she watches him trying to figure out how to wrap a TMNT turtle shell backpack. He thinks he’s finally worked it out and gloatingly sticks his tongue out at Amy when-

“Mommy?” 

Jake launches himself on top of the gift to hide it, immediately regretting his optimism that his toddler would stay in bed by himself for longer than thirty minutes, especially after he ate a sugar cookie. One of these days he’s really got to learn how to resist Mac’s sweet puppy dog eyes. 

Amy immediately turns round to see their son still clutching his turtle next to the dining table, one pajama pant leg at his knee and his bedhead already impressively messy considering how little time he’s actually spent in bed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she gets up from the couch and tries to usher him away from the sight of his last minute presents. 

“Why’s Daddy on the floor?”

She glances back at her husband still outstretched behind the sofa (he’s going for the if-he-isn’t-moving-then-he-can’t-be- seen method) and tries not to laugh, “He’s just doing some yoga; c’mon back to bed, baby.”

“But Mommy?” Jake hears as his two favourite people make their way back to Mac’s bedroom. “Does Santa know about baby sister?”

He smiles to himself; Mac’s going to be such a caring big brother and it’s so sweet to think that this time next year their family is going to be complete and she’s going to be nearly one years old with an embroidered stocking of her own hanging up. It’s even sweeter knowing that his son’s already thinking about her and trying to include her, even if it was really just an excuse to get out of bed. 

God, Jake suddenly realises: bedtimes are going to be so much harder with two kids. 

**8:15pm**

It’s only fifteen minutes later - the backpack now successfully wrapped and hidden behind the armchair and both parents collapsed exhausted on the couch - when they hear the pitter-patter of toddler feet again. This time:

“Daddy?” Mac’s caught on by now that if he switches between parents he’s guaranteed to get more attention.

Jake sighs and gets up, “Why aren’t you in bed, buddy?” 

“Daddy, I’m thirsty,” his son tugs insistently at his leg, looking up at him with his big brown eyes, “I want milk.”

Jake looks at Amy for approval - there’s still no one else’s opinion whom he cares about more than hers - and she shrugs, because they both know that more often than not hot milk really is the antidote to Mac’s hyperness. “We say “I want milk,  _ please _ ”,” he reminds him of the good manners they’re trying to encourage, picking his son up and carrying him on his hip to the kitchen. 

“Pleeeease,” Mac replies with a grin and buries his little face into Jake’s neck, knowing he’s won this round. 

Ten minutes later, Jake’s on Mac’s toddler bed gently trying to pry the sippy cup out of his hands as his whole body curls into his chest, the first sign that night that Jake’s rocking an actually tired toddler and not a nocturnal possum, as he has more than once suspected to his wife.

“Love you, Macadoodle,” he kisses his forehead and tucks him in once again, with any luck, and with prayers to the hot milk gods, for the last time that night. 

  
  


**9:30pm**

Ever since their first year as a couple and a perilous trip to Goodwin’s, it’s been a tradition to watch  _ Die Hard _ on Christmas Eve while drinking hot chocolate and snuggling under blankets, and through all the excitement of sharing new traditions with their son, Jake’s been looking forward to finally having some alone time with his wife for the first time that day. With the lights dimmed, their drinks on the coffee table steaming hot, and the television at the perfect volume as the movie - no this is a  _ film _ \- plays, he lies back against the couch with a contented sigh and Amy immediately accepts his invitation to cuddle. Her belly means she can’t get as close to him as she might like, but Jake falls that little bit more in love with her when he feels her instantly physically relax against him.

“You know  _ some _ families watch classics like  _ It’s A Wonderful Life  _ on Christmas Eve, babe,” she murmurs against his chest, even though she knows her husband is just as stubborn as their three year old and will never budge from this franchise. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s just because your brothers have no taste, Ames,” he retorts with an affectionate roll of his eyes. “And besides we’ve been through this a million times, this  _ is _ a Christmas classic!”

Amy lifts her head up to properly grin at him, her whole face glowing (how much from her pregnancy and how much from delight in knowing how to press his buttons, Jake’s not entirely sure), and he simply can’t help but press a gentle kiss to her smiling lips. (And, yeah, maybe making out on the couch has also inadvertently become a tradition in their household.)

“What’s a Christmas classic?” a small voice pipes up from behind the couch and Jake is so startled Amy almost falls off the couch with him, the fatal spilling of hot chocolate onto the cream rug underneath the table very narrowly avoided.

“Oh my goodness, Mac, you scared us,” Amy sits up properly as Mac immediately goes to her lap, not so subtly marking his territory because he’s always been jealous when his parents show affection with each other and leave him out. 

“Mommyyyy, I need to go potty,” he whines, his original question apparently forgotten, and this is the one request that Jake and Amy cannot deny him. He’s so good at using his words and telling him he needs to go during the day and, while he’s still in night-time pull-ups just in case, they’re hoping he’s going to be fully potty-trained very soon and they could not be prouder. 

“Well done telling me, Mac,” Amy smiles at him and gets up, before turning to Jake and raising an eyebrow, “Maybe the hot milk was a mistake.” 

A very impatient Mac starts jumping on the spot, “Mommyyyy!”

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” she takes his hand to go help him in the bathroom, leaving Jake to lean back against the couch defeated; he learned very quickly after becoming a father that, very often, parenting wins eventually turn into parenting fails. 

“Sorry, there’s now a more important McClane,” he murmurs with a fond smile at Bruce Willis on the screen, pausing the television in silent acquiescement that it would take a Christmas miracle to allow an uninterrupted evening of  _ Die Hard _ and making out when there’s a toddler in tow. 

**9:40pm**

“Babe, can you come through please?” he hears Amy call from somewhere down the hall ten minutes later, prompting him to immediately emerge from the pile of blankets on the couch to go see what’s going on, his heart breaking as he begins to hear Mac crying as he gets closer to his room. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, buddy?” Jake frowns sympathetically at the sight of his son seemingly distraught in Amy’s arms on his bed. 

“I was reminding Mac while he was on the potty that Santa’s busy delivering presents around the world tonight,” Amy explains, rubbing her baby’s back comfortingly, “And he got upset because we don’t have a fireplace so he thinks Santa’s not coming here.”

“Oh, honey,” Jake kneels down by the side of the bed and strokes Mac’s cheek to wipe away his tears. “Listen to me, Mac, Santa knows to come up the fire escape instead of a chimney to get to our apartment, okay? Once you go to sleep, he’s going to come eat all the yummy cookies you left out for him and he’s going to leave you lots of presents because you’ve been such a good boy this year.”

Mac’s still sniffling uncontrollably but he at least lifts his head from Amy’s chest to look at his dad hopefully. Jake smiles warmly. 

“In fact, you know what? Santa called me while I was at work the other day just to double check to use the fire escape and I told him that I’d even leave a note on the window to make sure he definitely knows where Mac Peralta lives,” he continues matter-of-factly, as Amy presses kisses to their son’s hair. She looks at Jake fondly - she can always count on him to say the right thing to cheer up their little one - and maybe, just like that, he’s back on the side of parenting wins. Life with Mac truly is a rollercoaster he never wants to get off. 

“Daddy’s right, baby,” Amy gently transfers him from her arms back to his mattress and tucks him in. “Just one more sleep and then we’re going to have such a fun day tomorrow.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Mac says quietly, finally convinced, and from the way his eyes are drooping it seems as though a good cry has finally exhausted him.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” she kisses him, letting Jake do the same before squeezing her husband’s hand in hers and leading them out of the room. 

As soon as they’re out of Mac’s earshot, she lets out an exasperated sigh, “Oh my god, thank you for saving me; I didn’t know what to say and I panicked.”

“Bless him, he loves overthinking just like his mommy,” Jake grins, leaning in to kiss her again. A hand falls onto her belly in between them, hoping to maybe feel the baby kick, and he pulls away laughing when he’s greeted with her stomach rumbling instead. “Hey, babe, fancy finishing our hot chocolates with a side of sugar cookies?”

Amy’s smile matches his, “That sounds perfect.”

**11pm**

Over an hour later, their plans of watching an entire film have fallen by the wayside to their tiredness, and Jake sits up in bed on his phone waiting for Amy to finish up her skincare routine and brushing her teeth so that he can at least enjoy some quiet time hanging out with her bump, just like he did every night when she was pregnant with Mac. He draws up the baby monitor app to check on him one last time, his heart immediately racing when instead of a sweet sleeping toddler he’s met with the sight of an empty bed. 

Luckily, it’s only seconds later that said toddler bounds into their room, still clutching his turtle, and Jake shakes his head in relief. “Mac, you’re supposed to be in bed sleeping, you know that.” 

“Mommy woke me up,” he frowns, and just as many past bedtime battles with Mac have ended, Jake already knows what he’s after. 

“C’mon then, Monkey,” he gives in all too easily before his wife can say no, because it is Christmas after all and tonight can be considered a stalemate. “Let’s have a snuggle in Mommy and Daddy’s bed.” 

Mac’s sleepy, yet still endlessly cheeky, grin floods his face as he uses all his strength to climb onto their bed, assuming his rightful position as a little koala clinging against Jake’s chest. He’s going to be utterly exhausted tomorrow in between all the excitement of new toys, food and a million family Facetimes, Jake knows, but at least that means that tomorrow night is guaranteed to be easier. 

“Hey, Mac, want to see something cool?” he asks, typing in ‘Santa tracker’ into Safari as Mac nods immediately. He lowers his phone so that they can both see the world map, knowing his clever little boy can already recognise some of the countries having been babysat by Holt and Kevin on occasion. 

“Look, Santa’s flying over France right now,” he points out and Mac looks utterly fascinated. “He’s got to fly over the ocean and then he’s going to be in New York in a couple of hours, isn’t that amazing?”

“Hang on,” they both look up at the sound of Amy’s voice as she hangs up her robe on the back of the door. “What’s a monkey doing in my bed?”

“Mommy, Santa’s in France!” Mac squeals in reply, pointing to Jake’s phone as he silently mouths ‘Sorry’ over their baby’s head in lieu of an actual answer to her question. They’re trying to not let Mac get into the habit of sleeping in their bed, and Jake knows Amy likes her space, especially now that there’s a massive belly taking up room, so he hopes she won’t be too annoyed. 

Amy looks at Jake pointedly but then just sighs fondly and climbs into her side of the bed, shuffling closer to her boys so that she can get in on the snuggle action, “Well, come on then, I want to see Santa too!"

**Midnight**

"Hey, Ames?” Jake whispers into the darkness as he watches the alarm clock on Amy’s bedside table change hours, their baby still snuggling into his side but thankfully now finally,  _ finally _ sound asleep.

“Mhm?”

“Merry Christmas, babe.”

Amy properly opens her eyes and smiles, leaning over Mac to very softly press a kiss to Jake’s lips, “Merry Chrstmas, babe.”

She collapses back against her pillow with a contented sigh and, maybe as a testament to being soulmates or just being loving parents, he knows that exact feeling of being equal parts exhausted and excited.

His glances down at his little love and his heart fills with gratitude at the thought of Mac’s excited little face tomorrow, of getting to spend Christmas in their warm and cosy apartment as a little family of three, soon to be four. He nudges his wife, the other love of his life and keeper of his heart, one last time, “Ready for Mac to wake up in five hours?”

She smiles. “Definitely.”

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope you enjoyed some fluff, comments and kudos would be a gift if you feel so inclined!
> 
> and i want to thank anyone who's shared a hc or yelled w me abt mr mac on my lil blog this year because truly i appreciate it so much - this ones for you clowns!


End file.
